Kei's Gift

by Ann Somerville

  “Morals and my wife are complete strangers. It would be a waste of time.”

  He found Mayl out on the southern verandah—she wasn’t alone. “Come to admire my father’s grandchild, Mekus?” he said. “Or are you visiting your son?”

  “I have no idea what you mean,” Senator Mekus blustered, backing away from the chair where he’d been sitting in a rather intimate position with Arman’s wife. Mayl straightened her gown hastily and glared at him.

  “Really? Then you’re even more stupid than I thought you were. However, you can stay to hear this. Mayl, I am sending you back to your father. We have the requisite witness, I see,” he added, nodding at the woman sitting in terrified silence off to one side, suckling a small infant. “Sei Mayl, I repudiate you, I return your dowry and I return you to your family, unwanted. Leave this house within the hour.” He drew out the banker’s note and laid it on the long chair. “Take it and get out.”

  “You can’t send me away, I’m divorcing you,” she said with smug malice. “And I want more than my dowry, Sei Arman. Much more. Treason is a very good ground on which to get rid of you and strip you of your fortune.”

  “My fortune is gone, you stupid bitch. I signed it away this morning, all but this. But if you want to go to court over it, please, by all means. Let’s expose your tawdry affair with a man old enough to be your father—or is it grandfather? I can never keep track of such matters,” he said, looking Mekus up and down with disgust.

  “You have no proof! No servant here will ever speak against me. It’s your word against mine. The word of a traitor against a member of the aristocracy, a virtuous woman with a new-born child.”

  Arman snorted at the idea of Mayl calling herself virtuous, with her dress still disordered from Mekus’s hand up her skirt. “A child I see you can’t be bothered even to feed yourself—what’s the matter, doesn’t Mekus like the taste of milk?”

  The senator made a disgusted noise. “She’s right. You’ve not a shred of evidence, and once she’s done with you, I’ll prosecute you for libel.”

  “And get what, Mekus? My money’s gone, the house isn’t mine—and besides, how will it look when people learn you’ve used your own daughter to pimp for you?”

  Mayl gasped, then looked at her lover in dismay. “How...you have no proof. You’re guessing.”

  Arman shook his head. “Not a bit of it—as for proof, did you think it amusing to send my wife disgustingly detailed propositions through your daughter, with me to deliver it? When I found that letter in my files I could hardly believe even you could sink that low. Unfortunate for you I became distracted that evening and forgot about it—I bet it caused you some anxious moments when you realised it hadn’t arrived.”

  “A forgery,” Mekus said, even as he backed away from Mayl. “Still no proof.”

  “Really? You know, Meke doesn’t strike me as a particularly strong-minded or intelligent person. How long do you think she will last under examination? Especially when I remind her of the penalty for perjury—she’s nothing much to look at now, but losing her nose, ears and tongue might ruin her marriage prospects, don’t you think?”

  “You wouldn’t,” Mayl shouted at him. “You’d never go through with it, the scandal—”

  “A traitor avoiding scandal? Just try me, Mayl. I’m in a mood to wipe the floor with both your pathetic hides. Now, get out. Take your money and leave. Your servants are about to be turned away, their notices paid and the house locked up. If you don’t leave, I’m sure the senator can tell you about the gentleman who played so prettily with him yesterday. He’s in the library right now, waiting for me.”

  Mayl went white, and Mekus gulped. “Come, my dear. I can protect you.”

  “Oh, leave me alone, you fool,” she snapped, picking up the banker’s letter. “Kesa, bring the child.”

  “No.”

  “What?” Mayl said, turning to Arman. “You surely don’t want him.”

  “I don’t want you to have him either, and certainly not to be raised by a pair of wanton thugs like you two. The child is mine officially and I claim him by right. Even if you divorce me, there’s nothing you can do. Take yourself off, and don’t plead the sorrowful mother with me. You’ve not even looked in the boy’s direction since I came in, so little does he concern you—and no one decent would cavort with their lover in front of a child this way. Just get out. Your belongings will be sent to you, and if you linger, I’ll have you thrown into the harbour along with this worthless creature. I have some very angry Darshianese with me, Mekus—any one of whom would love to see you die very painfully.”

  The senator was almost purple with anger. “Her Serenity will hear of this, Arman. Your father too.”

  “My father knows, and, please, do tell Kita. It’ll save me the effort. Get out of my house now. Both of you, before I lose what little control I have!”

  His roar frightened them into action and they scurried out, much to Arman’s relief. He turned to the wet nurse, who, he now realised, was only a slip of a girl, no more than seventeen or eighteen. “My apologies, madam,” he said in a gentler tone. “Wait—I know you, do I not?”

  He came over to her and crouched down. He had to admire the way she protected the baby and continuing to feed it, even though she was obviously nearly out of her wits with fear. “I won’t hurt you or the child. You’re not to blame for this business. Your face is familiar though—I do know you, yes?”

  “Yes, Sei,” she whispered. “I’m Lieutenant Vikis’s wife. We were at your captain’s wedding last year.”

  “So you were. But what are you doing here? Why are you working for Mayl?”

  The child finished feeding at that point, and he waited for her to wipe his mouth and arrange her dress again. “My little girl died three weeks ago,” she said in a quiet voice, “and at the funeral, an agent looking for a wet nurse came and asked if I would work for your wife. I needed the money, Sei Arman. My husband... Sei, is he lost? I’ve been waiting for news for so long...and he doesn’t know about our baby.”

  Her face was a mask of misery, and under the terror, he saw the distinct marks of very recent grief. What a disgusting practice wet-nursing was, preying on the bereaved, and mostly just so aristocratic wives could regain their figures sooner. “No, he’s not lost. He was injured in the same battle where I hurt my leg, but the last report I had of him two weeks ago said he was fit and well and waiting to return home.”

  She gave a little cry of astonishment. “He’s alive? Really?”

  “Yes, he is.” The position was killing his leg and he had to stand. “It’s Kesa, yes?” She nodded. “Kesa, I need to get the boy away from here and he needs a nurse. Would you be willing to look after him until I can find another? It’ll mean some travelling, but I’ll make sure you and Vikis are reunited. I’ll pay you well for your trouble. Do you have dependents here?”

  “No, Sei. My father died some time ago, and left my mother a widow. But late last year she fell ill with a lung disease, and she died a week after you left. It’s just my brother and me now. There were so many bills to pay because of my mother’s illness, and they’re only giving me half of Vikis’s salary. That’s why I needed the work.”

  “Then I will make sure you are well compensated for your trouble, and when Vikis returns, his pay will be reimbursed. Your brother? Can he spare you?”

  “Can I see him before I go?” she asked shyly.

  “Of course you can. Come with me. Where are the child’s things?”

  She led him to the nursery, and he asked Jera if he would help her pack up the baby clothing and other items. He had no idea what he would do with an infant of this age, but he knew one thing—he wouldn’t let another child be raised in unhappiness. Karus had told him to raise his child to have an open, honest heart, and by the gods, he would do that in Karus’s memory, even if the child wasn’t his at all.

  He left Kesa in Jera’s protection, and summoned the soldiers to the kitchen where the staff were assembled
. Mayl hadn’t even bothered to tell them what was happening before she and her decrepit lover slithered off. But Arman didn’t mind—it gave him a lot of pleasure to tell Mykis in person he was being sent away and that he shouldn’t expect a reference. “None of you should,” Arman said heavily. “Colluding in your mistress’s infidelity in that manner, you’re lucky to receive any notice at all. You can apply to Tarkus, the banker, once the Darshianese ships have left port. Now get out—take your own belongings and nothing else, or you’ll be prosecuted for theft. Captain Pevus, mind that they do as instructed.”

  It only remained for him to write some letters of instruction and pack a few precious books and letters, his private seal and a few mementos. The rest of it could go to his father, hopefully to be put to a better use than it had been to now. He had a few personal items to remove from his bedroom, but considering he’d lived there for four years, it was surprising how little mark he had made, how little he’d accumulated. Mayl had bought things but the house was not much changed from when they’d taken it over. She’d obviously thought his father had given it to him outright. Arman wondered how many charms she would have for Mekus now she was a fortuneless ex-wife, the dubious coin of her virginity long since wasted. It was customary in such cases for the husband to compensate the wife for the years of access to her bedroom—but since Arman had had so little use of the facilities, he’d let the one who’d availed himself of her expensive cunt do the compensating.

  Kita would be furious if she found out, and he wondered if Mekus would actually dare to complain of his behaviour. Arman really didn’t care in the least.

  He left the bundles of books and papers in the library and went to find Jera and Kesa. They too were ready, Kesa holding the child carefully and protectively. What a damn shame the child was not her own—she was so obviously a far more fit mother than Mayl. “Shall we go? We’ll call at your home later.”

  “Yes, Sei.”

  “You understand you are not obliged to come, don’t you, Kesa? I‘ll pay what you’ve been promised for your wages regardless, I promise that.”

  “Yes, Sei. I want to come. I want to see him safe, and then see Vikis again. It’s been very lonely since he left.”

  With suffering two deaths so close together, and her husband gone, it was a wonder she had managed at all. Poor child. “Then come with me. The Darshianese are a very kind people and they’ll care for you until you see your husband again.”

  “Darshianese?” she said, her hand going to her mouth in a nervous gesture. “Will I be safe?”

  “Quite safe,” he said, with a smile in Jera’s direction. “He’s not so terrifying, is he?”

  “No, Sei. He seems nice.”

  “And so he is. Come on, there are people I need you to meet.”

  ~~~~~~~~

  Arman had been gone hours and although it was wonderful to see Karus’s people again, and to spend some time where Kei had a few happy memories, he was quite worried about his lover. Arman had been so very sad that morning, so bowed down by sorrow, and visiting his father and his wretched wife would only place a further strain on him. So Kei fretted, finally giving up all pretence of following Jena and Reji’s conversations with the others. He wandered out to the front of the house, dismissing Tiko’s warnings about keeping a low profile. As if Kei wasn’t perfectly well aware of the danger they were in. It was he who’d been the damn hostage, not Tiko.

  Neka would alert him if there was a problem, and if he desperately wanted to, he could contact Arman in an instant, but he’d sworn not to violate his privacy. Arman would be fine, he told himself, but he still waited, looking along the road for any sign of the calash.

  Finally, well after noon, the vehicle arrived. To Kei’s shock, after Jera got out, he helped a young woman carrying a baby down the calash’s steps. Arman followed—limping badly once more, Kei noted in concern as he ran to meet them. “Arman...who’s this?”

  Arman allowed Kei to take his arm. “Kei, this is Kesa,” he said in Prijian, speaking slowly so Kei could understand it. “Kesa, this is my good friend, Kei of Ai-Albon.”

  She nodded, but looked very uncertain. “And the child?” Kei asked.

  “Mayl’s son.”

  Kei made him stop. “But...Arman, why...?”

  Arman looked at him with weary, almost desperate eyes. “I couldn’t leave a baby with her,” he said. “No one deserves that...gods, I’ve made a mess, I wasn’t thinking...I just wanted to get away from her, take the child and get away from her stink. Now I don’t know what to do with him.”

  Kei pulled him close and kissed him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kesa’s eyes widen, but he really didn’t care what she thought when Arman was this distressed. “We’ll sort something out,” he said firmly. “Just come in and get off your damn leg—what have you been doing, pulling the calash yourself?”

  “No. Just kicking a noble arse or two,” he said with a painful-looking smile.

  Jena came flying out of the house then, and Kei repeated Arman’s explanation. “Jena, this is Kesa,” Arman told her quickly. “She’s only recently lost her own child, and her mother too. Can you take her in and look after her for a little while?”

  “Of course,” she said, and introduced herself politely in Prijian. Hearing her own language from a Darshianese clearly startled the girl, but she responded with a timid smile. Jena led her into the house, Jera close behind them. Kei and Arman followed more slowly, and Arman insisted on resting at the front verandah before going inside.

  “I need a moment.”

  “Of course,” Kei said. Arman looked dreadful, even more grief-stricken than when he’d departed for his father’s house that morning. “Was it very bad?”

  Arman nodded. “Yes, but not...exactly...as I thought. It seems my father and I have been estranged for nearly twenty years over—” He stopped and grimaced. “Is it possible to suffocate under the burden of one’s regrets?”

  “I doubt it. What happened? Was he cruel?”

  “At first. But then it was worse than that. He...I’ve done him a terrible wrong. And I’ve given him more pain today, when I never meant to.... Gods, what a bastard I am,” he said bitterly.

  “You’re not, you’re a good, decent man. What happened?”

  Arman explained, his face contorting with remembered sorrow. Kei listened, holding his hand, and aching for Arman’s grief. “All these years, all I wanted was his love. All these years I had it, and I didn’t know. The sheer waste of it, the pain of it all...and now I’m abandoning him, not even leaving him with the illusion of the grandson he wanted so badly. I thought he just wanted an heir. All he really wanted was my love, and I denied it to him.”

  Kei stroked Arman’s hair back from his face. “You were a child, and in need of understanding and love too, as he was, but each of you were too hurt to offer it to the other. He shares responsibility here, more than you, for he was an adult. It’s not too late, you know. Even if you have to leave Utuk, you can write, you can try to show him your love that way. You could even visit, perhaps, once the peace has had a chance to grow strong.”

  “But it doesn’t undo the damage.”

  “No, it doesn’t. But at least you want to try to mend things for the future. And Mayl?”

  “Gone and good riddance to her.” Arman looked at him. “I suppose it was cruel of me to take her child, but she had no interest in it at all. I couldn’t...I promised Karus...and the child is an innocent, no matter whose it is.”

  “Yes, it is, and I think you did the right thing,” Kei said firmly. “But what’s to become of it?”

  “You said you wanted a child—could you raise Mekus’s bastard?”

  Kei drew in a sharp breath. To raise a baby...to be a father, even by adoption.... He’d never thought to have that chance. But then he looked at Arman’s face again. “You can’t, can you? You could never forget who his father was.”

  “No. I know it’s wrong of me—but I know myself too well. And to make a c
hild suffer for something not its fault...it would be better to let Mayl bring it up than to do that.”

  “Then better to acknowledge it now, than to make the mistake of dismissing it. We’ll find a home for him. What of this young woman? Who is she?”

  Arman grimaced again. “Another sad history, poor girl. Still grieving for her own baby and hired to do what Mayl wouldn’t lower herself to. You don’t use wet nurses in Darshian, do you?”

  Kei shook his head. “No—I mean, in theory, yes, but in reality, the chances of there being a nursing mother available when a child needs a breast are so small, we had to find other solutions. Most do well on jombeker milk, if you can get them past the first week or so. How old is he?”

  “I have no idea. At least three weeks, that’s all I know.” Arman wiped his eyes. “I can’t think any more. I’m so tired. I still have to sort out Kesa’s affairs—but you can use jombeker milk? So we don’t need her, in fact?”

  “Not strictly, no, but human milk is better, and it would take a little while to wean him onto it if you want to avoid colic and so forth. She’s willing to travel to Darshian?”

  “She’s Vikis’s wife, would you believe? So yes, at least to Fort Trejk. After that, we need another answer.”

  Kei stood up and helped Arman to stand too. “We’ll find one, then.”

  Arman looked into his eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to raise him? I know you want to be a parent.”

  “Yes, I do, but I want to be with you more, and if this will distress you, it’s not an option at all,” he said firmly, and felt Arman’s relief, which only confirmed he was right in his decision. “Come inside, Cook has our lunch, I think.”

  Kei led Arman inside to the kitchen, which was full of people. Jena and Kesa were in the corner, Reji holding the child as the women talked. Cook and Siza were listening to their conversation intently. Matez and Jera were just watching everything going on. “Where’s Tiko and the others?” Kei asked.

  “Garden,” Jera said. “Cook chased them out a minute or so ago with their food. Our lunch is ready too.”